the materials from the bomb left on our porch. An arson investigation is not a fast process either.” Sharp walked two steps, pivoted, and took two more strides in the opposite direction. “Did we find any sign that a former subject of one of Olivia’s investigative journalism pieces could be behind her abduction?”
“Nothing that makes sense.” Lance tapped the note on the board. “The only real possibility is in Oregon.”
“Where are we?” Sharp’s voice echoed his frustration.
“My mother sent the rest of the background reports,” Lance said. “I’ve started skimming them. So far, nothing has jumped out at me.”
Sharp swept a hand through his hair, leaving it standing up in tufts. “Have you made any headway with the Franklin case? What did you learn at the sheriff’s station?”
“Morgan and I read the murder book. The sheriff was convinced Franklin was tied to the disappearances of five other women who went missing over the past ten years. But his theory is mostly conjecture with a small amount of circumstantial evidence.” Morgan picked up her file on the Franklin case. “What if he’s innocent?”
A shadow passed over Sharp’s eyes. “Then the real killer certainly wouldn’t want Franklin freed and the Brandi Holmes murder case reopened.”
Lance picked up the marker and wrote REAL KILLER? in the FRANKLIN CASE column. “The attorney, Mark Hansen, also has motive. He royally screwed up Franklin’s case.”
“Maybe he didn’t miss the error,” Morgan said. “Maybe he purposefully let it go.”
“Why would he do that?” Lance asked.
“Blackmail and bribery come to mind.” Sharp scrubbed both hands down his face.
Lance circled his name. “He claims he was in Rochester overnight Thursday, but he refused to prove it.”
“We can’t make him provide receipts, but we can keep his name on the short list.” Morgan sighed. “What other leads do we have?”
“I’m going to talk to the brother, Joe,” Sharp said. “Today. Without Stella, if that’s the way it has to be.”
“I’m going to track down Olivia’s editor after I talk with her agent,” Morgan said. “I know it’s the weekend. He could be away, but I’m not waiting any longer.”
“I’ll go with you,” Lance offered.
Morgan was more than competent, but so was Olivia, and she had been kidnapped. Morgan’s New York State concealed carry permit was not valid in the city. She’d be going unarmed. Lance did not like that. As a former cop with more than ten years of experience, he could carry a gun anywhere as long as he maintained his certification. He would go with her and play bodyguard.
“We’ll have to leave soon,” she said. “It’s a three-hour drive without traffic.”
Lance turned to Sharp. “When are you checking in with Stella today?”
“We’re touching base later in the morning. We were tied up at the Olander farm most of the night. I came back here, and she was going to catch a nap if she could manage it.” Sharp studied the board. “I feel like we’re missing something.”
Morgan’s eyes were heavily shadowed, and she looked like she’d slept in her clothes—which she had. “I need to shower and change.”
Lance hesitated, looking back at Sharp. “Do you want me to stay here?”
“No. Go with Morgan.” Sharp waved away his offer. “Stella will call in a few hours. I’ll be fine.” He rose and picked up his soup bowl and mug. “As much as I don’t want to rest, I’ll be more useful if I sleep for a couple of hours. Maybe my brain will reboot and things will start to make sense.” He carried his dishes to the door. “Please go. I can’t be everywhere at once. I need you two to chase down leads in the city.”
Lance and Morgan collected their jackets and followed Sharp toward the kitchen, and all three left through the back door. The air outside was cold, damp, and cutting. Sharp armed the security system, locked up, and walked around the side of the duplex. Morgan buttoned her wool jacket and followed Lance to the Jeep. The police and arson investigators had finished with the porch, but it was still roped off for safety’s sake.
Lance slid behind the wheel and watched Sharp climb the wooden staircase on the outside of the house. A minute later, lights brightened the windows of his second-story apartment.
“Think he’ll be all right?” Lance drove away from the curb.
Morgan rubbed her hands together. “No. I don’t think so.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Olivia wheezed. Drawing air in and out of her lungs felt like she was trying to breathe through a cocktail straw. Her inhalation